The Past & The Present
by LuvvAddict
Summary: Sequel to Talents & Toys. *AUSLLY* Rated T to be safe.


**Hey guys! Wow it has been so long since I've written a fanfiction! So before reading this I suggest you read ****_Talents & Toys_**** .**

**If you do that, then this story will make a lot more sense.**

**So if you did read my old story you will remember that I said if I got 50 good reviews I would turn it into a non-script story? Well I'm going to have a vote on whether or not I will still do that! So PM me or review if you want me to leave it alone or transform it. :)**

**So are you ready for the sequel? Well, here you go!**

Disclaimer: I don't own **Austin & Ally**.

* * *

_**Chapter 1**_

Austin walks into Sonic Boom.

"Hey, Ally!" he says.

Ally looks up from the magazine she was reading. She seems upset.

Austin notices her sadness. "What's wrong?"

"It has been exactly one year since Jo left to live with her Aunt and Uncle in Minnesota."

"Really? Wow," Austin replies, "Do you think she will ever come back?"

Ally frowns, "I don't know! She won't even answer any of our messages or calls. It's like she doesn't even want to talk to us."

"Come on, Ally. Jo is still just really confused. So much has happened to her. She probably wants to forget Miami and everyone here."

Jo walks in.

Ally is the first one to see her. She gasps and smiles. Austin is still talking.

"She probably broke up with Kyle and has a new boyfriend and better friends where she lives now. Man. I doubt she'll ever talk to us aga-"

Jo speaks up. "Austin! You can shut up now."

Austin turns around and realizes that it's Jo. "Jo? Jo! You're back!"

"Yes. Yes I am. Hey, Ally! It's so good to see you again! Where are Trish and Dez?"

"They're down at the cemetery. Jo Junior died. They're having a funeral," Ally replies.

"Oh no!" Jo says, "Who's Jo Junior?"

"The hamster you gave Dez when you left."

"Oh! I expected that thing to die within two weeks."

"Yeah. Dez got really attached to that hamster."

"So," says Austin, "What brings you back to Miami?"

Jo looks away. "So how's life?"

Austin gives her a look. "You just avoided my question."

"What question? I didn't hear a question."

Austin and Ally frown at Jo.

"Jo. Is there something that you're not telling us?" Ally asks.

Jo gets mad. "Quit asking all of these questions! It doesn't matter why I came back! All that you should care about is that I am here now."

Ally looks down and Austin looks confused.

"Look, I'm sorry for getting mad. I just don't want to talk about why I'm here. Not now."

Ally walks up to Jo and smiles. "It's okay, Jo. We understand. But what I don't understand is why you have a sweater on in Miami! It's almost 97

degrees outside! Take that off!"

"No!" Jo yells and grips on to her sweater. Ally gives her a look. "I mean. I'm really cold today. I guess I might be sick. Well, I need to go and see Kyle.

He has no clue that I'm here. Bye guys! I'll see you later!"

Jo leaves and Ally looks back at Austin (who still looks very confused).

"What was that all about?" he asks.

Ally replies with an 'I don't know.'

**Ally's POV**  
I know that there is something up with Jo. I just wish I knew exactly what. Why would she be wearing a sweater in Miami? And why did she all of a sudden turn up here? Where are her Aunt and Uncle? Why in the world am I asking myself so many questions?  
"Ally!" Austin yells at me. "Sorry," I reply, "it's just that I know something is wrong with Jo. She was acting strange. Getting all mad like that all of a sudden, wearing the sweater, avoiding our questions."  
"I know right?" Austin says, "And why did she just randomly come back to Miami? Not that I am complaining it's great to see her again, but I've never seen her like this."

Dez and Trish walk in.

"Hey, Dez," I say with sympathy, "I'm sorry about Jo Junior." "It's okay, Ally. I'm not sad anymore!" Dez replies. How can he not be sad? That hamster was his bestfriend! I ask how he isn't sad anymore and Trish reveals that he just got a new hamster.  
He named it Jo III.

Oh, Dez.


End file.
